


Forty-two and Counting

by jdjunkie



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Series, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-08 00:33:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1920003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdjunkie/pseuds/jdjunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Home is each other and that has long been the case, in the Springs, in off-world tents and any one of Daniel’s houses-not-homes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forty-two and Counting

**Author's Note:**

> Flashfic written for Deeds' birthday.

Jack wakes at 5.30am to find Daniel sprawled half-across him like an affectionate starfish, Daniel’s lax cock warm and comfortable against Jack’s thigh.

Lazily, Jack does the math; they’ve woken up this way 42 times since their mutual retirement.

He smiles, which turns into a stifled yawn, and tries not to move because to move would be to wake Daniel and he likes Daniel just fine where he is.

He turns his head and nuzzles into Daniel’s hair. He smells delicious, a mixture of last night’s tired after shave – a celebration dinner at their local seafood restaurant had been quiet but filled with smiles and a shared sense of unspoken enjoyment – and a unique musk that triggers memories of last night's relaxed, happy sex. That, in turn, creates the first stirrings of interest from Jack’s dick.

Jack decides to risk disturbing Daniel, who mutters something but doesn’t wake, because the urge to snuggle closer is irresistible. He shifts onto his side, insinuates one leg between Daniel’s and the other over, and tucks Daniel’s head into his shoulder. It fits perfectly. Daniel lets out a contented, “Hmmm” and still doesn’t wake.

In the half-light of dawn, Jack’s gaze tracks around the bedroom and takes in the neat pile of boxes on his side of the bed (Jack’s stuff) and the haphazard, half-open, children’s building block pile on Daniel’s side (Daniel’s stuff). Daniel should be better at packing; he’s had years of practice, moving from place to place. _“I never really called anywhere home,”_ he’d said, quietly, last night and damn if that matter-of-fact confession isn’t a gut punch, even now. If those boxes were to contain precious artifacts -- or, as Jack calls them, “bits of old stuff," just to see budding outrage melt into exasperated affection on his husband's face -- it would be a different story. They would be stacked with military precision.

Husband. _Hus-band._ He never tires of using that word in connection with Daniel. _“This is my husband, Daniel.”_ Daniel is a little more reticent. “This is my ... Jack.” And that’s okay, because he _is_ his Jack. Has been since Abydos, the first time.

Daniel stirs, just a little, and burrows in, exhaling a soft breath against Jack’s neck. It sends shivers through him and an unambiguous message straight to his increasingly interested dick. Jack stretches with the deliciousness of it all – the closeness, the warmth and sheer, simple happiness.

Man. When did he become so easy to please? So damned _sappy?_

He allows himself the luxury of another ten minutes of cuddling and skin-on-skin, thinking of nothing, just enjoying the moment. He reaches down and pets his dick in an absent, comfortable kind of way. He doesn’t want to get hard. This state of semi-arousal is enough. Knowing that being with Daniel, sleeping with him and holding him, does this to him, is enough.

“You starting without me?” Daniel’s voice is thick and drowsy but Jack feels the slow smile against his skin.

“As If I’d do that. Actually, I _have_ done that and I would do it again right now if you asked me.”

Daniel huffs a laugh. “I’ll hold you to that.” Then he tightens his hold on Jack’s waist. “But not just now.” He seems content to stay in their cocoon of contentment, too. So content, that Jack feels the moment Daniel falls back to sleep.

Jack lets his mind wander, through their beachside wedding a week ago, their spur-of-the-moment visit to his parents that started out tense and ended anything but, and their busy, final day packing up the Washington apartment that has never been anything more than a place to stay. Home is each other and that has long been the case, in the Springs, in off-world tents and any one of Daniel’s houses-not-homes.

In the circle of Jack’s arms, he feels Daniel come awake instantly.

“It’s today, isn’t it?” No gentle awakening this time. Daniel’s mind is already working at a hundred miles an hour.

“Yes, baby, it’s today.” Jack runs a soothing hand down the warm skin of Daniel’s arm, from shoulder to fingers, and feels the man relax into his touch.

“We should get up.” He sounds regretful.

“S’okay. I don’t give the keys back til nine. All we have to do is load these boxes into the truck and we’re good to go.”

Daniel sighs and pulls back until his eyes meet Jack’s. His face is sleep-creased and his hair adorably spiky. Jack can’t resist leaning in for a kiss. Daniel closes his eyes and licks his lips afterwards. It’s all very cute.

“It’s just for the summer, right?” Daniel asks, checking for the umpteenth time.

“Just for the summer.”

“This isn’t some ruse to lure me to Minnesota and then you’ll chain me in your secret cabin dungeon and keep me there forever, only letting me out to fish and pee.”

Jack smiles, letting everything he feels show in his eyes. “Secret dungeon, huh? I’ll take that under advisement. But, no, I promise. We’ll be in the new place by late Fall.”

Daniel’s face softens and he reaches out and strokes his knuckles down Jack’s cheek. “The house that Jack built.”

“The house that Jack built for _you_.”

“For us.”

Us. What a huge word, considering it consists of only two letters.

“I wouldn’t bother with a library if it were just for me. I’d make it a rec room.” It’s nonsense. The library was the first room Jack designed on the plan.

“You’ll _have_ a rec room.”

“There’s always room for two. Teal’c’s petanque trophies need a good home on Earth.”

Daniel grins and steals a quick kiss, then his gaze turns thoughtful. “My own library, complete with your mother’s antique desk.”

Jack sighs. “I can’t believe she just gave you that desk. I’ve wanted it for years.”

“It’s my undeniable charm.”

“Yes it is.” It is. He won her over in ten seconds flat, with his impeccable manners and obvious love for her son.

Daniel yawns and stretches, which makes parts of his body move deliciously against parts of Jack's. “When do you plan to fly out to the Cape to check on progress?”

“In a month or so. The contractor’s a good guy. He did some work on the Vidrines’ summer place. No worries on that score.” Jack traces lazy curlicues on Daniel’s chest. Because he can.

Daniel covers the roving hand with his own and squeezes it gently, bringing their wedding rings into contact. They freeze, then look at each other, both a little chagrined that something so simple can mean so much. “It’s really happening, isn’t it?” There’s a mixture of disbelief and pure joy in his voice.

“It is.”

“Wow.”

Sometimes, that says it all.

“Wow,” Jack echoes, smiling.

They grin goofily at each other.

“Wanna make love?” Jack asks, jiggling his hips, suggestively.

Daniel regards him for a while. “Can we just fool around?”

“Sure.”

So they kiss and stroke and laugh. Because they can.

Jack does the math; forty-two mornings down, a lifetime to go. He’ll run out of fingers and toes to count on long before they’re done.

 

ends


End file.
